


Anytime

by Pisces21Red



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Ian Gets A Bikini Wax (Essentially), Ian Soothes Him, M/M, Mickey Gets A Brazilian, Mickey's In Pain, This happens a few years down the line, Waxing Hurts Like a Motherfucker, a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pisces21Red/pseuds/Pisces21Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian convinces Mickey to go with him to go and get waxed.</p><p>Mickey goes in expecting nothing but comes out with a newfound appreciation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anytime

**Author's Note:**

> Idea came to me while I myself was getting waxed and I just couldn't resist.
> 
> And also, I appreciate all of the kudos and comments I'm getting on my other three stories, especially on It's Just Nothing, the horror story. 
> 
> Honestly, I'm surprised that people took and are still taking to it so well but I'm nonetheless appreciative of all the comments, I don't even know how to respond to them all, they're all so great to read.

“How the fuck did I let you talk me into this shit again?”

Ian rolls his eyes, yet a smug smile sits happily on his face as he pushes open the door to the waxing center, holding it open for his boyfriend.

“Mick, you’ll love it… _trust me_.”

“Trust you?” Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up, and he bites his bottom lip in that infamous warning look of his. “You sound like you’ve had that shit done down there before, Gallagher.” He says trying to hide his jealousy.

Though it’s been a couple of years since Ian’s quit his job at the Fairytale, he can still recall all of the times his co-workers would gossip with one another about how good it felt to be rimmed after getting a Brazilian Wax.

Ian was never particularly interested in getting a Brazilian but he has had his pubes waxed a couple of times before just for shits and giggles. But Ian will admit that whenever he was balls deep in someone and he had his pubes freshly waxed, maybe a day or two old, the feeling was fucking _indescribable_. Still lingering sensitivity from the “man-scaping” Ian had paid for, him thrusting into a writhing body beneath him or a or a body riding his dick viciously, allowed for Ian to feel _everything_ ; from fine downy hair to the heavily porous skin on a partner’s body and it was downright one of the most amazing sensations that Ian’s ever admittedly felt.

After the whole depressive fiasco and Mickey and Ian finally establishing their stable, yet still dysfunctional relationship, Ian didn’t want to freak Mickey out by coming home one day without his characteristic “Firecrotch”, so Ian hadn’t had it done in a while.

It wasn’t until Ian had gotten tired of a couple of loose hairs getting stuck down his throat while he rimmed Mickey that Ian had proposed a solution. It’s obvious that Mickey dyes his hair because the hair on the rest of his body is a fine blonde instead of thick and coarse, which Ian’s thankful for, mainly when it comes to going down on him and eating him out. Since it’s one of Mickey’s favorite things for Ian to do to him, as much as the smaller male doesn’t want to admit it, Ian does it to him more often than not. But there are times when that one pesky piece of hair gets lodged in Ian’s throat and he’s not able to get it out for fucking _days_ afterwards.

Ian had complained to Mickey for about three months before his boyfriend got tired of his bitching and reluctantly agreed. Ian had even told Mickey that he’ll go first and get his pubes done to make Mickey feel more comfortable.

So, here they were.

A good two hours away from the Southside of Chicago at some obscure gender neutral beauty center.

Ian leads the way in, greets a young woman with long brunette hair at the front desk to which she gives him a radiant smile in acknowledgement, causing Mickey’s brows to rise and they continue all of the way towards the back of the establishment.

After venturing down a couple of dimmed hallways, they finally arrive at a room and Ian knocks lightly before pushing the door open to reveal a large and centered black cushioned table in the midst of a few potted plants, some perfumed bottles and a low table with a pot, an assload of wooden sticks, strips and other random shit that Mickey’d rather not know what they’re used for.

“Ian!” A loud voice shrieking causes Mickey to jump the slightest bit, while Ian, already knowing the source of the voice and used to her eccentric voice and antics by now, just smiles happily.

She’s small and thin and pretty, with long brunette hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, face free of makeup nd a simple outfit comprised of light grey leggings and a tight, long black t-shirt covers her body.

“Hey, Max,” Ian pulls the slight woman into a hug once she steps out of the attached bathroom. “It’s been a while.”

The woman, Maxine, lets out a giggle. “I know, where the _hell_ have you been?! I thought you finally got that hot piece of ass you’ve been moping over back or some shit, you sounded so excited when you called!”

Ian sheepishly rubs the back of his head and nods. “Yea…something like that.”

Max’s eyes widen. “What?” She then squeals again, causing Mickey to wince once again, an irritated look now pasted onto his features. “Is he still as sexy and cute and adorable as you said he was? Was he happy you guys got back together? Oh, I want to meet him, no- I _have_ to meet him!”

Before she can start her shrieking again, Mickey interjects angrily. “Yeah, I’m not fuckin’ standin’ here or anythin’ but I do have to be at work in a couple of hours and I would like to get this girly shit over with sometime today. So, if you two, Blossom and fuckin’ Buttercup are done squealin’ like a bunch a’ schoolgirls, let’s get this show on the road.”

Ian shakes his head fondly while Max pins Mickey with a mix between a confused look and a glare.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Mickey, this is Maxine, a friend I met a couple years ago when still working at the club. Max, this is Mickey, my _boyfriend_ of five years.” Ian makes sure to annunciate the word boyfriend to Max so she can understand that Mickey is the guy that Ian was moping over.

“Ohhhh…but wait- _five years_ , I thought…”

“It’s complicated.” Mickey says quick and dismissively, taking care not to look at Ian.

An awkward silence descends upon the three occupants of the room before Max clears her throat.

“Well…you’re definitely not what I pictured, Mickey.”

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean? That a problem?” Mickey asks defensively.

Mickey knows when standing next to Ian, he’s not anywhere near as attractive as the ginger is, which has always made him a tad self-conscious about his image. When meeting a couple of friends of Ian’s, he could always feel the judging glances that constantly made his blood boil and fester and though Ian would reassure him, telling him that they were just jealous that they could never have a strong connective, relationship like he and Ian, Mickey just couldn’t believe it…still can’t believe that they’re still going strong to this day.

“No, no…you’re just so cute and compact! From the stories Ian’s told me, I imagined some big and burly fucker.” She placates.

Mickey gives a sarcastic twist of his face to the woman’s response, clenching his fists to keep from chopping the woman in the throat. “Sorry to disappoint. Now, can we start this bullshit already? We’ve wasted at least 30 fuckin’ minutes.”

Ian gives Mickey a warning glance to which Mickey scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest petulantly.

Max giggles once again, when she witnesses the males’ interaction with one another and she treks over to the table setting everything up. “Alright, you know the drill, Ian.”

And with that, Ian promptly begins stripping out of his clothes…

“’Ay, whoa, whoa…the fuck are you doin’?!”

…Until his boyfriend’s loud protest halts his ministrations.

“Mick, relax, she can’t wax me with my clothes on.”

“Do you have to get completely fuckin’ naked though?” Mickey asks, seeing Ian yank off his shirt and start on his pants.

At that question, Ian gives Mickey a dirty smirk. “Nah, that part’s just for your benefit, baby.” Ian then shucks off his pants, boxers as well, and kicks them away from him before picking them up and folding them, placing the items on a cushioned chair by the door.

Mickey gives Ian an unimpressed look at his comment but he doesn’t resist ogling his boyfriend’s muscled body and soft, but long and thick cock; Christ, he’s fucking _gorgeous_.

Laying himself down on the paper covered bed, Ian relaxes and spreads his legs the slightest bit wider, ready for the waxing session to commence.

-

“Aaaannnd, you’re done.” Max gives Ian a light smack on his abs, pulling off her gloves to replace them with new ones and doing the same for the used strips and sticks.

Ian gingerly sits up with a small grimace and hobbles over to where his clothes now sit on Mickey’s lap, while the older male sits in the chair.

“You scream like a little bitch, Firecrotch.” Mickey laughs out, moving to remove his boots, socks, pants and boxers.

Ian punches Mickey in the arm, having pulled on all of his clothes besides his shirt and shoes. “Yea, well, let’s see how well you do when hot wax is not only being poured on _your_ pubes but in between _your ass cheeks_ and then your hair being _ripped_ from the fucking _root_ with paper.”

“Oh, please, being shot twice and being sent to Juvie more times than I can fuckin’ count, without a tear bein’ shed, I’m sure I can handle a little hot fuckin’ wax…unlike you, Twinkle Toes.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Ian says, taking Mickey’s vacated seat.

Mickey takes his spot on the table and when he gets comfortable, Max looks at him expectantly. “Ready?”

Mickey shrugs his shoulders and his body tenses when she spreads the hot wax on his pubic bone.

“Shit, can’t you cool that crap off first?”

Max smiles. “Nope, and plus, cold wax hurts more than hot wax…you’ll be just fine.”

She covers the dark blue wax with a strip and pushes down on it a couple of times, smoothing it out to make sure that it gets all of the hair perfectly. When she’s satisfied with that, she takes one corner of the strip, lifting it a couple of centimeters before counting.

“1…2-”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey interrupts. “Just pull the fuckin’ thing.”

Max and Ian share a look, and with mirrored dark smirks, Ian nods his head towards her and she yanks the strip off with a loud RIP!

All is quiet for a couple of seconds before a loud and garbled scream breaks through.

“What the fuck?! Bitch, you wanna fuckin’ take it easy- give a guy a fuckin’ warnin’ next time?!” Mickey shouts, face red, his body thrumming from the sharp and tingling pain shooting throughout his lower body.

That shit hurt like a _motherfucker_!

Max, unfazed by the insult, just shrugs her shoulders before repeating the process with another hair covered area. “Hey, it’s the price of beauty.”

“Well, if the price of beauty hurts this fuckin’ much, then maybe bitches should stop complainin’ and just go natur- _ahh_ , _FUCK_!” Mickey grips the sides of the table, vision blanking out for a couple of numbing seconds and he can vaguely hear Ian cracking up in the background.

“That’s where more than _half_ the population of this country disagrees with you, Mickey.” Max says idly.

“Like I give a fuck what they disa- _sonuvafuckin’BITCH_!” At this point, Mickey can feel the burn of tears in the back of his eyes, but he fights hard to prevent their descent down his face.

“Who’s screaming like a little bitch now, baby?” Ian gets out in between bouts of hysterical laughter.

“You will when I decide to stop puttin’ out for your alien-lookin’ ass- _fuckin’ shit_!

Max joins Ian in his laughter, while placing another strip down. “Don’t worry, you’re almost done…and then we can start on that pert, little ass of yours!”

“Fuck you…fuck you both!” Mickey hisses out between gritted teeth, eyes shut tightly.

“As much as I want to, I have a man, sweetie who gives me some good lovin’ at home. Thanks for the offer though.”

Mickey silently plots both of these idiots’ deaths in his head and resolves that this is his last fucking time ever getting waxed- FUCK!

“Alright, flip over, short stuff.”

Pain-stakingly slowly, Mickey turns over onto his stomach and when Ian sees his eyes are a bit red-rimmed and he looks like he’s in an uncomfortable amount of pain, Ian takes pity on him and saunters up to him, kneeling down next to the table beside his boyfriend’s head.

“You okay, Mick?”

“Fuck off, you were laughin’ at me like I was the best comedic act in the world not even 15 seconds ago, and now you wanna check up on me? Fuck outta here.” Mickey says, tensing once again when he hears Max preparing to wax his asshole.

Ian leans in, planting a couple of light kisses upon the dark haired male’s pouty lips and realizes that Mickey must be really hurting if he didn’t move away from the open PDA.

“Sorry, just trying to have some fun…it hurts that much?” Ian questions worriedly.

Even when Ian first got waxed, sure it hurt like fuck, but the pain went away a couple of minutes later, it didn’t linger for more than that. But then Ian also knows that different parts of Mickey’s body are extremely sensitive, so much so in fact that when he and Ian first began fucking and Ian discovered the spots, Mickey would always punch Ian in the stomach, pretty fucking hard. Ian guessed it was because it made Mickey feel too vulnerable to openly let someone mess with a weakness like that; Ian reassured him that it’s sexy that his body is so in tuned to another person’s touch.

“Fuck no, it just feels oh so fuckin’ good to have scaldin’ hot, sticky shit poured on my body and then my hair bein’ forcefully yanked out.” Mickey huffs out.

Ian places his broad hand on Mickey’s bubbled ass cheek and rubs it soothingly. “How about I stay here and take your mind off of the pain, hm?”

“As much as you two seem to be good buddies, I still doubt your friend will appreciate us gettin’ down and fuckin’ dirty right here.” Mickey points out, gesturing behind him to Max who’s dipping the stick in the wax and spreading Mickey’s cheeks with the other hand.

“Nah, she definitely won’t…I’ve told her about a couple of our crazy sexual acts, she’s a kinky freak like that.”

“I _definitely_ won’t,” she parrots Ian. “My favorite was the one where you rode him while he was still driving the car…that sounds so fucking hot.”

“Exactly.” Ian chuckles, pulling over a wheeled chair and planting himself into it.

When Mickey lets out a hiss the moment Max spreads the wax onto one side of his hole, Ian leans down and begins to whisper absolutely _filthy_ things in his boyfriend’s ear, little nips and licks being placed on the small and pale appendage.

Max looks at the couple before her with a small smile on her face and rips off the strip, garnering a loud pain-filled gasp from Mickey.

“Fuckin’ hell, this shit better be worth it, Gallagher.” Mickey spits out, eyes rolling closed when Ian begins laving over that spot on his neck, a couple of centimeters below his ear.

“It will…you’re almost done, Mick, just a couple more strips.”

“Whatever.”

Mickey braces himself for the next few strips and when she announces that she’s finished, Mickey collapses to the bed in relief.

“Your boyfriend has an amazing ass, Ian…I’m almost jealous.” Max says, cleaning everything up, letting out a chuckle when out of the corner of her eye she sees Mickey raise his middle finger weakly.

Ian silently agrees with Max as he admires Mickey’s bare ass and knows he’s going to look at it more in detail at home as soon as Mickey is no longer in pain.

He helps Mickey up and with his pants and boxers. Mickey stands up to pull on his socks and sneakers as he doesn’t think he can take sitting down with the pain still shooting through the cleft of his cheeks.

When Mickey is standing on his own two feet, Ian turns to Max who’s watching the both of them, that soft smile having returned to her lips.

“You guys make such a nice couple.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey turns to Ian and grabs the keys from his jacket pocket. “I’ll be in the car.”

Mickey limps out of the room, ready to beat the fuck out of anyone who gives him a funny look over how fucked up his gait is right now.

“Thanks, Max, what do I owe you?” Ian asks, pulling his wallet out and thumbing through the few notes he had in there.

Maxine holds a hand up and shakes her head. “Nothing at all, Ian. It was a pleasure to do this for you.”

“What? No- I’m not just gonna-”

“Ian, I’m not taking your money.” Max says sternly and when Ian looks like he’s about to protest once again, she strengthens her glare, to which Ian holds his hands up in surrender and goes over to give her one last hug.

“Thank you again, it was nice seeing you.”

“You too.”

Ian goes to leave the room but his friend’s voice stops him.

“I mean it, you know,” at Ian’s confused look, she continues. “About you guys making a nice couple. You’re both lucky to have one another; it’s so amazing to see young, loving couples around my age like you still out and about.”

“Trust me, with all of the shit me and him have been through, we are from loving, that shit’s not even in our vocabulary with how fucked up our relationship is.” Ian scoffs.

“I doubt that…that man looks like he’ll move the edge of the fucking Earth for you and you look like you’d do the same…not many people would willingly get their pubic hair ripped out for their lover, they’d rather just shave, you know? He obviously wants you around and from what you’re packing, I can see why.” Max says, eyebrows wiggling lasciviously.

Ian laughs at Max’s last statement, but he mulls over what she said in his head and he wonders if other people beside Max can see how much he and Mickey mean to each other and how they will do damn near anything and everything for the other. They’ve been there for one another and though they’ve had their lapses of violence, sometimes over the dumbest shit and other times over serious shit, they still stay together and fight through the tough times.

It warms Ian’s heart and stomach, his whole body really, and leaves a pleasant feeling behind to know that other people can see that he and Mickey are _it_ for each other and that’s really all they need.

Giving Max one last hug and parting with mutual goodbyes and a promise to stop by more frequently in the future, Ian sneaks into another room, where he knows all of the employees’ tip jars are and drops $50 into Maxine’s, before leaving the establishment completely.

For a pretty sunny day, it’s a bit cool outside and Ian shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, rubbing them together. The minute he sees Mickey’s car, he jumps into the driver’s seat and already seeing that the key is in the ignition, the car already on, he puts the vehicle into reverse, backing out of parking space, switching it to drive and pulling out of the lot entirely.

At a red light, Ian turns to Mickey. “Thanks, Mick.”

Mickey rolls his eyes that are glued to the windshield, watching people go about their day, shopping, eating and overall regular shit. “Yea, yeah, whatever…you better eat my ass like the world is on the fuckin’ brink a’ endin’ or some shit with what I had to go through, Firecrotch.”

When Ian doesn’t say anything else, Mickey lets out an annoyed sigh and grabs the back of Ian’s neck with his left hand, bringing his head down to push their lips against one another. It’s void of any tongue, it’s instead a few presses of their lips, light smacks echoing throughout the space of the car.

Engrossed within their kiss, they don’t notice the light turn green and when car horns are angrily honked from behind them, Mickey just shoves his hand out the window, middle finger waving high in the air.

Mickey finally pulls back to let Ian continue on with the driving. “Anytime, Ian.”

And when Mickey notices a goofy smile stays plastered on Ian’s face for the rest of the ride home, he doesn’t try to deny the gooey, warm feeling that spreads throughout his belly at the prospect that he’s the one who gave Ian that look and that he’s still able to be the reason his boyfriend takes up that look.

-

A month later, while chilling at home on the couch with her boyfriend watching Curb Your Enthusiasm, Maxine gets a phone call and to her surprise it’s not someone who she expected.

“Mickey?”

“Yea…how soon can I come in again?”

“What, Ian’s not coming with you this time?” She questions confused.

“No, he doesn’t know…it’s his birthday in a couple of days…” Mickey mumbles out, cheeks turning a bit red on the other end.

Max slowly smiles, looking similar to that of the Grinch. _Guess he liked the results better than he thought he would_.


End file.
